


Partners in Crime

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, BAMF Louis, Eventual Smut, M/M, because why the hell not, more tags to come when my brain functions properly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Zayn had left England to travel to America he had done so hoping that his life in America would be better and that maybe one day he could bring his family with him. The harsh reality of the "Land of the Free" was discrimination and poverty where working every day until he dropped wasn't enough to keep him well fed. At the onset of The Great Depression Zayn doesn't know how he'll survive or even if trying is worth the trouble. All that changes when Louis Tomlinson comes crashing into his life. Literally.</p><p>Or what would happen if Zouis was Bonnie and Clyde. Party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has just been begging me to write it so here we go. If you are familiar with the story of Bonnie and Clyde I won't be following it exactly but this will have a lot of parallels. 
> 
> I appreciate any constructive criticism!

The harsh sunlight streamed through cracks in the window's shutters, landing directly on the sleeping form of Zayn Malik. He frowned, his face scrunching up as he tried to block out the misery that the new day would bring him. If it wasn't for the fact that he slept on the floor, blocked in between two other tenants he would try rolling over to avoid the sun, as it was he was tempted to tug his blanket over his eyes but doubted that the pitiful garment would have much impact.

Zayn sighed softly, mentally cursing himself as was his routine every morning in this hell whole of a country. He had been foolish enough to believe that America would provide him new opportunities that he hadn't been given in Bradford. He had thought that he could earn enough money to make a decent living and bring his family across the ocean and away from the crowded and dirty streets of England. He thought America would provide them all with a better life.

He was a fool.

All around him he could hear the others moving, preparing for a long day of work. The single room had a cheap price, everyone able to rent a space of floor on a weekly basis. As such it was crowded with everything from six person families to single men. Although it was the cheapest rental for miles, if Zayn didn't get up and get to work he wouldn't be able to pay the next weeks rent, let alone save enough money for a trip back home.

Reluctantly he got up, stretching stiff muscles as he glanced around the room. A few regulars caught his gaze and nodded curtly but this wasn't a place where relationships were forged, no matter how platonic. Zayn moved quickly, his extra moments of lazing about would bit him in the ass if he didn't get to work on time. It was a matter of seconds to stuff his belongings into the small bag he carried and to run his fingers through his hair to get rid of any stray locks. He changed into his work shirt and walked out the door.

The moment he left the apartment he felt the air draining from his lungs under the heat. Of all the places for a boy from England to live he had somehow ended up in Texas. The humidity was stifling and he was sweating before he was halfway to the small diner he worked in.

Once inside he flashed a smile at the busboy who returned it wearily, "Morning, Zayn. How's it going?"

Zayn shook his head, "If my answer ever changes you'll be the first to know, John. Have you heard any news?"

John nodded in the direction of a newspaper sitting on the diner's counter, "They're calling it The Great Depression now. The money's just dried up. Who knows when it will end."

"While all the politicians sit in their houses and eat actual food, of course," Zayn muttered, scanning the article and flipping the page. His eye was caught by another piece. A mugshot was shown of a man who looked about as dangerous as a butterfly. Elvish features grinned mischievously at the camera. The headline next to the photos read Tomlinson On Another Crime Spree.

"Malik! Stop lazing about! I don't pay you to pretend like you're educated. Get this place ready to open!" Zayn's boss yelled from his office, the sudden noise making Zayn jump and drop the newspaper.

"Yes, sir," He replied automatically, moving to grab an apron, shoving Tomlinson far from his mind.

...

Zayn's shift was long, to say the least. As the financial crisis got worse day by day less people had the money to spend on eating out. Regardless, the diner, with its unusually low prices, seemed to soak business away from the more expensive restaurants in town. For the entirety of his eight hour shift Zayn was constantly on the move, seating customers, taking their orders and bringing their food. His shift was drawing to a close when screams sounded on the street.

A customer stood, glanced out the door, and turned deathly pale as all the color drained from their face, "Everyone get down!"

Before Zayn had time to react a car crashed into the diner, shattering the glass windows and sending a billow of smoke throughout the building. Through his coughing fit Zayn heard the door open and assumed someone exited the car, the smoke making it difficult to see anything.

"Everyone get on the floor!" The voice, distinctly Irish, whipped through the air. There was a moment's hesitation from the diners and then gunshots sounded, "I said get on the goddamn floor!"

The smoke began to clear and the man could be clearly seen. He had dyed blond hair, brilliant blue eyes and an open, innocent face. His features clashed with the gun he held comfortably in his hand and the hard gaze that swept the restaurant, looking for anyone who dared to defy him.

"What's the matter, babe? Didn't understand his point?"

Warm breath blew on Zayn's neck and he moved to whirl around. The motion was stopped by the barrel of a gun being pressed into his neck, Zayn froze.

"Hmmm, clearly you're not stupid." The voice was light, teasing, as if the entire situation was amusing to the man behind Zayn, "Do you work here?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful, would you be so kind as to point my colleague in the correct direction? We're looking for whatever spare cash you might have." Zayn pinpointed the man's accent, Doncaster. What was an Englishman doing robbing diners in Texas? As he tried to puzzle out the situation he heard the noise of a gun safety being turned off, "At your leisure, love. But do try to hurry before my finger starts to twitch."

Zayn pointed to a door across the way where his boss, who had a general distrust for the banking system, stored all his earnings. The Irish lad moved to the door and shot off the lock, kicking the door open. He glanced back to the man behind Zayn and gave a curt nod before beginning to shovel money into the bag he had carried on his back.

"It's so refreshing to be told the truth the first time around," Zayn's captor murmured, "Usually I have to spill some blood before anyone's willing to tell." Zayn's breath caught in his throat at the comment and his captor chuckled softly, "I was just thinking aloud. As long as you don't try anything rash I don't see the point in spilling any of your blood. I like to reward cooperation when I can."

"Louis, we're good." The Irish man called as he threw a couple of bags into the back of the car.

"I'm going to back away now. Do me a favor and don't come after me, it would be a shame to have to kill you." The man, Louis he was called, said. He waited for a few seconds before lowering the gun from Zayn's neck and backing away. Zayn tried not to visibly relax when the presence was no longer at his back.

The man stepped into Zayn's field of vision, moving to the car as if he had all the time in the world. He occasionally stopped by a cowering customer to pull off a bit of jewelry or to browse through a wallet. When he reached the car he turned back to face Zayn and Zayn immediately recognized the impish grin that was flashed his way. Louis Tomlinson gave him a mock salute before climbing into the driver's seat as his Irish friend got in the passenger's seat. The car backed away and drove off down the street.

Zayn watched it go before the fright of his situation caught up to him and he crashed to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis goes for a stroll and stumbles upon a familiar face.

A sharp slap jolted Zayn back into reality and his eyes snapped open to stare up at his boss. The man looked nearly ready to have an apoplexy, the veins in his neck pulsing to what Zayn considered a danger point.

"Get off the floor and help the customers. Make yourself good for something, Malik!" He snapped, his face turning a queer shade of reddish-purple, "I need to see how much money you didn't stop the bastards from taking."

With that he stormed off and Zayn watched him in shock. Was he really being blamed for the theft? It's not like he had been held at gunpoint the entire time. Resisting the urge to chase after his boss and punch him in his obscenely large gut Zayn stood and dusted himself off, taking stock of the damage. He moved from group to group, helping them get up and wearily hearing out their shouted abuses and insults about how they demanded a refund and why hadn't he stopped the thieves?

It was almost comical how long it took the police to arrive but Zayn accepted their help without complaint. He was more than willing to sit back and take in the fact that he was somehow still alive. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck where the gun had rested on his skin, expecting to find some proof of his ordeal but nothing was there.

"Malik!" Zayn sighed at the sharp call and moved to where his boss stood.

"Yes, sir?"

"Those thieves took off with more than half of my savings and the damages to the restaurant would cost more than I'm willing to pay. We're shutting down."

Time froze for Zayn and he stared at the man in disbelief, "What?"

"You heard me, you're out of a job. Better go get in line at the unemployment center."

"Do I at least get my last paycheck?"

The man sneered for a few moments before dropping a few bills in Zayn's hands, "Here you go kid, don't spend it all on one place. Now get going."

Zayn opened his mouth to reply but his retort withered under the glare that was sent his way. Even though this pot-bellied pathetic excuse for a man was no longer his boss, Zayn was malnourished and didn't fancy his odds if he had to face off in a fight against him. He closed his mouth and turned away, pocketing what would pay for either a weeks worth of food or three more days of rent. He had to find a job, or he'd end up begging on the streets.  
...  
"Louis, mate, can you hear me?" Niall flicked Louis on the back of the head, "Stop daydreaming."

Louis scowled, rubbing the spot that Niall had flicked, "What was that for?"

"For not responding to me when I was talking to you. What are you thinking about? You're never quiet for more than five minutes."

Louis snorted, "You're one to talk, Niall." Louis stretched out on the couch, his eyes settling on the table that held stacks of money, "How much did we get?"

A head popped up from under the pile of money, "I won't tell you until you say how many you killed."

"Liam, calm down. I didn't kill a living soul, and I'm the one who's asking. Don't know about Niall though. Didn't keep my eye on him the whole time, not his babysitter." Louis sat up, "Besides, you don't call the shots around here, love. Niall?"

Niall jumped at the sudden change of topic, "Didn't kill anyone."

"Well there you go. So how's our personal bank looking?"

Liam straightened, glanced at his notepad and shrugged, "I haven't finished, only have about ten percent of it left or so but I'd guess that you guys got nearly two-hundred dollars. Where did you go?"

"Just a diner." Louis said, picking up a stack of money and fingering through it, "Nothing fancy except I've been hearing rumors that the owner was a prude that wouldn't go to the banks. Wouldn't even bother to pay the employees a decent wage when he had the money."

"Employees?" Liam asked, absentmindedly as he wrote a few figures down on the paper.

"Yeah, there were four or five I think. He couldn't have paid them twice as much as he did, they earned it."

Niall grinned, flopping down on the couch next to Louis, "You took a fancy to one of them though, Louis. The brunette with the Bradford accent was it?"

Liam frowned looking up from his notepad, "And you just put him out of a job. He'll end up begging on the streets, Louis."

Louis hopped off the couch, "Along with all the other thousands of Americans. I try not to cry over situations that the government caused. Anyone else want tea?" He was met with silence and shrugged, leaving the room for the kitchen. As he got to work making himself tea he could hear Niall and Liam whispering softly. Though he couldn't make out their exact words he could guess, by the way Niall kept laughing, what they were talking about. Regardless of what the two lads thought, he would not go after some random guy he just happened to hold at gunpoint.  
...  
The unemployment line stretched down the street, the sun beating down on the town making the heat unbearable. Standing towards the back Zayn stood on his toes, squinting at the front of the line. It wasn't moving. He tapped the man in front of him on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Sorry for bothering you but why doesn't the line move?"

The man snorted, "You're new. The line doesn't move cause there aren't any jobs. We're just in line for when the jobs start coming back. First in line."

"So this is a waste of time. Nobody gets employed out here?"

"Better for my pride than begging."

Zayn considered the words before glancing at his hand, crumpled in his palm was a dollar. If he just stood in line he would soon be starving on the streets of Texas. He pocketed the bill and sighed, "Better for pride, but I can't afford to keep mine."  
...  
"Liam, be a doll and go get me a drink, please."

"Why can't you go get your own drink?" Liam sighed.

"Because, Liam." Louis said, holding up a newspaper he had picked up earlier that day, "I'm a wanted criminal on the run. No one in their right mind would serve me a drink without calling the cops. Not around here anyways."

Liam rolled his eyes and left the shadows of the building the trio were sitting underneath and entered a shop. He left just a few minutes later with three drinks in hand, passing one to Niall and one to Louis, "Why haven't we moved on then?"

"I can still walk the streets without people recognizing me." Louis explained, "If I left too soon all the time I'd run out of places to go. There's only fifty different states you know."

"Well then you should know that there's a bloke down the street begging that matches the description Niall gave me of that diner waiter you nearly shot."

"For the last time, Liam, I wasn't going to shoot him." Louis said, sipping his drink. The words didn't sink in for a few moments. It was mid sip when the sentence registered and Louis spit out the rest of his drink, "What did you say?"

"Your friend, the waiter, is on the street begging."

Louis finished his drink, "Then why don't we go say hello?" He set off down the street before Liam could remind him just how stupid of an idea that was.

Louis stuffed his hands in his pocket and glanced down the street, looking for the waiter. To be fair, it wasn't a simple task. The street was littered with different beggars and Louis had to pause. Niall and Liam skidded to a stop next to him and Louis turned to Liam and raised an eyebrow in a question.

"Over there, by the bookstore." Liam sighed, "Try not to get us all chucked into prison."

Louis stored the remark away and reminded himself to make a snarky retort a few hours later. Right now, he had some charming to take care of. He set off down the street to where the waiter lad was staring at the tin can he had in front of him and dropped a few coins into the tin. The lad glanced at the tin and mumbled what could have been a thank you.

"Sorry, love. Didn't catch that." Louis said.

The lad recognized his voice and looked up, meeting Louis' gaze. For a few seconds he seemed to be in a state of shock before his face split into a scowl, "You. Get the hell away from me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First two chapters were a bit of exposition but from now on this fic will be rolling! Constructive criticism is always welcomed! If you liked this chapter come swing by my tumblr writingfromtheshadows.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One second," Louis said, his eyes still on Zayn. Boldly, he held out his hand, offering it to Zayn, "Well?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Sorry for the long gap I've just started my freshman year of college so I was swamped. Updates will be more regular now (I hope).

A bony elbow dug into Zayn's too thin side and he tore his eyes away from his lap to connect with brilliant blue. Niall nodded at the bowl immediately to Zayn's left, "Pass the beans, mate."

Zayn reacted instantly, picking up the bowl and passing it to the Irish lad to his right, his eyes dropping back to his lap as soon as the bowl was securely in Niall's hand. There was a moment of silence before a joke told in a Doncaster accent pulled laughter from Niall. The only person as quiet at the table as Zayn was the lad directly across from him, his brown eyes watching Zayn curiously.

He risked a glance to his left to where Louis sat, he was telling yet another story that had Niall in laughter and Liam torn between disapproval and amusement. The thief was loud and charismatic, his elvish features displaying a range of emotions. His eyes flicked sideways to catch Zayn's and he quirked an eyebrow, Zayn's attention dropped to his lap once more. As Zayn ate the first substantial meal he had had in weeks he cast his mind back, trying to figure out how exactly he had let three criminals talk him into joining them for dinner.

...  
 _"You. Get the hell away from me." Zayn could feel himself beginning to shake with anger. How dare this guy walk up to him after ripping away his job and leaving him for the streets? If Zayn wasn't so weak from malnutrition he would have tackled him to the ground._

_The criminal tilted his head, raising his eyebrow in a teasing expression, "Funny way to say thanks for the money, I'm Louis by the way."_

_"Yeah, I know who you are." Zayn muttered, "Took the liberty of finding out after I got kicked onto the street."_

_Louis shrugged, "Self-preservation, mate. Everyone needs to eat, you chose to work, I chose...acquisition."_

_"You ruin other people's lives cause you're greedy. Stay away from me, you've done enough damage." Zayn stood, pocketing the coins in his jar and picking up a small bag that contained his belongings, brushing past Louis with a glare for Niall and Liam. A firm hand on his forearm stopped his movement and he whirled to face Louis, his mouth open to shout for the police._

_"Look, let me at least get you an apology meal. You look half-starved." Louis said, the arrogant front gone in favor of a sincere offer._

_"Give me one reason why I shouldn't just shout for the cops." Zayn snapped._

_Louis let go, "Because then you wouldn't get that meal, would you?"_  
...

"So, Zayn, how did you end up here from Bradford?" The kind voice was Liam's, pulling Zayn out of his reverie and back to the dinner table.

He looked up, slightly startled at the three pairs of eyes fixed on him, he focused on the gentleness in Liam's, "I just did what everyone does, I suppose. I was just going to come ahead, save up money and bring my family over." He paused, then said, "And how did you end up thieving?"

Liam's cheeks turned a rosy pink, "I don't...I'm not..."

"What Liam's trying to say is that he doesn't actually steal anything," Louis offered, "He just helps with supplies and counting money and doing the boring stuff. Niall and I came across him when we visited a small bank and Liam was trying to withdraw some money. Coin-pinchers wouldn't let him so we brought him with us."

"And you, Niall?" Zayn said, a bit of a challenge creeping into his voice.

"Not really important, is it?" Niall replied, "Here now."

Louis settled his head on his hands, "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"You're clearly going to tell me either way, you're quite in love with yourself, Tomlinson."

For a few seconds no one said anything, the tension that suddenly built in the air let Zayn know a few key things about the group. Louis was in charge, he always was in charge, and an angry Louis was evidently something to be avoided.

Louis' eyes bore into Zayn's long enough for Zayn to wish he hadn't spoken before he grinned, "You've got fire, Zayn. I like it." He continued eating, seemingly unaware that the other three lads let out a collective sigh of relief that his reaction was so mild.   
...  
Dinner was coming to an end when an explosion outside sent up a flare of light. Louis, Niall and Liam were all out of their seats and moving to the window in a split second, peering out into the night.

"Damn," Louis hissed, "I figured we had at least three more days. Pack up, quick!"

Liam rushed from the room, Niall right on his heels as Louis turned to look at a very confused Zayn, "Liam's a genius, he set up an alarm system of sorts, when it goes off it means the authorities are coming to visit. It's ideal for us to be gone when they get to the front door."

The color drained from Zayn's face, "You mean the police are coming to arrest you? Right now?"

"You too, babe, they'll assume you're working with us. So, do you want to stay and hope they'll understand or come with us?"

"Go with you?" Zayn repeated.

"Just until we reach the next town and can drop you off without anyone noticing." Louis explained, his eyes flicking out the window as he spoke, "You can't stay with us forever, you'll slow us down."

Shouts reached Zayn's ears and a few car doors slammed shut as Niall ran back into the room, "Louis, we've got two minutes before we're behind bars, we have to go now!"

"One second," Louis said, his eyes still on Zayn. Boldly, he held out his hand, offering it to Zayn, "Well?"

Zayn stared at the outstretched hand, his mind buzzing as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening, and why he was actually considering Louis' offer. Running away with a gang of criminals was not something he had ever pictured himself doing and even as he thought about it now it was an idiotic decision. A hammering on the door made him jump but Louis didn't flinch, his arm not even wavering as he waited patiently for Zayn's decision.

"Guys, we need to get out of here!" Niall snapped.

"I must be crazy," Zayn muttered and took Louis' offered hand.

The other lad flashed him an impish grin and took off, tugging Zayn behind him.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, adjusting to college is kicking my butt but I will finish this fic, promise!

The group drove through the night, trying to put as much distance between them and the authorities as possible. They had only stopped once, to fill up on gas, before continuing on their way to the Texas-Oklahoma border. It was reaching the early hours in the morning when Louis relieved Niall from driving duty, telling the lad to join Zayn in the back and rest. Liam sat in the passenger’s seat, his eyes fixed out of the window as Louis began to drive.

“You shouldn’t have brought him.” Liam’s voice was so soft that Louis nearly missed it.

“Hmm?”

“Zayn, you shouldn’t have brought him.” Liam repeated, “He should be getting on a boat to go back to Bradford, to his family. He doesn’t know what he’s getting into.” 

Louis glanced at Zayn’s sleeping form in the rearview mirror, “He’s not _getting into_ anything. We’re dropping him off once we get to Oklahoma and we’re continuing on our way. He won’t see us ever again.”

Liam looked away from the window to watch Louis’ face, “Except we’re not. That’s what you’ll say right now, Louis, but once we get there you’ll keep telling yourself that Zayn will just be here one more night, and then one more night after that until he’s a permanent part of the group.”

The other lad was quiet for a few moments, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he considered Liam’s words, “Okay, suppose you’re right and Zayn stays with us, what’s wrong with that?”

“He’s not a criminal. Louis, you and Niall, you guys _kill_ people. Zayn isn’t like that and one day you’ll meet your match and be dragged to jail or killed. What happens to Zayn then? Just give him some money and send him home, you’d be doing us all a favor.”

Louis glanced back at Zayn, “The next decision is his to make.”

“No one can resist you, Louis.”

A ghost of a smile played across Louis’ face before he became serious once more, “He could.”

…

When Zayn opened his eyes he had to blink rapidly to adjust to his bright surroundings. The car rumbled around him, indicating that they hadn’t yet reached wherever Louis wanted to go. He assumed they must have driven through the night. Yawning, feeling oddly well-rested, he sat up, glancing around. To his right Louis was slouched against the car door, fast-asleep. Liam was driving and Niall was murmuring softly to his friend, fingers idly tinkering a child’s toy.

“Morning,” Niall said, flashing a grin back at Zayn, “Sleep well?”

“Surprisingly so, where are we?”

“About an hour away from the border with Oklahoma,” Liam replied, “Texas is huge, don’t know why we picked a town so far in.”

“What’s in Oklahoma?” Zayn asked, sliding forward in his seat so he could see the road ahead.

“Who knows,” Liam said, “We just have to get out of Texas and find someplace to hide. Louis hasn’t hit Oklahoma yet so we won’t be known. If we’re lucky we’ll get to stay there for a couple of months.”

Zayn nodded in understanding, mulling a question over in his head. Quickly, he glanced at Louis to make sure he was still asleep before lowering his voice and saying, “Are you two scared of Louis?”

There was silence as Niall and Liam exchanged looks. They seemed to have an entire conversation in seconds as Zayn waited for an answer. It was Liam who spoke first.

“Perhaps not as scared as we should be,” He said softly, “You have to understand that Louis is a criminal. Not only does he steal but he has killed, police officers to be specific. But, Louis wasn’t born that way. He’s kind in his own way and has a wicked sense of humor. I know he’d protect me until hell boiled over but I also know that if I betrayed him he’d bring hell to me.”

“Louis is a great enemy, but an even greater friend.” Niall added, “He’s a bit of a paradox really. You just want to be careful until you know where you stand with him.”

“How do you learn that?”

Niall grinned, “Very slowly, mate.”

…

After another four hours on the road Louis finally declared that the group could stop driving and get some food. They group ended up eating in a diner before finding a small house to rent for a few days as they figured out their next move. Exhausted after their day of traveling the four lads settled in the living room of the house, occupying themselves with various tasks. Niall had pulled out a small tool kit and was toying with a few objects, evidently he enjoyed tinkering, while Liam read a book. Zayn was settled on the floor, flipping through a small notepad he had brought from Bradford.

“What’s in that?” Louis’ voice sounded from over Zayn’s shoulder and the lad flinched. It wasn’t the first time he had noticed that Louis moved without making a sound but it was still surprising.

He glanced up into blue eyes and shrugged, “Just a notebook I brought from home.”

Louis leaned over, running a delicate finger along a page, “Did you draw that?”

The thief’s voice held a slight note of awe as he studied the picture. Zayn shrugged, “Yeah, it’s a hobby of mine.”

“It’s amazing.” Louis murmured, flipping the page to look at another drawing. He studied the pictures in silence for a few moments before saying, “When’s the last time you drew something?”

Zayn shifted slightly, feeling the months of longing return to him as he admitted, “Not since I left Bradford. I couldn’t afford any materials here. I just carry this with me so I don’t forget how much drawing meant to me.” He paused, then in an attempt to steer away from a topic that was upsetting he asked, “So, what happened to dropping me off as soon as we got here?”

Louis’ eyes flicked to Liam, who was paused mid-page turn, his mouth set in a thin line before saying, “Nothing, if you want us to drop you off that’s fine. I thought you should get some say in it since it’s your life.”

“What are my options?”

Louis settled down onto the floor next to Zayn, his eyes never leaving the other lad’s, “Well, we can drop you off here just like we picked you up in Oklahoma, we can leave you with enough money to get you back to Bradford on the next boat to England or you could stick around.”

“I won’t slow you down?” Zayn echoed Louis’ earlier words.

“You might, you might not.”

Zayn considered Louis for a few moments, considering his choices. He knew very little about the group he was currently sitting in, yet after what wasn’t even forty-eight hours in their company some intuition told him that he could trust all three. Still, there was Louis’ reputation to consider.

“Why would I stay with a murderer?” He prodded.

Something flashed in Louis’ eyes, an emotion there and gone too quickly for Zayn to be certain what it was. If he didn’t know better he would say that his question had pained Louis, but that couldn’t be right, Tomlinson was a criminal, plain and simple.

“Don’t know,” Louis replied, his voice light as if they spoke of the weather, “I’m not sure why that’s relevant. I’m a robber, not a murderer. I’ve not even killed a dozen men, and I only ever fired the second shot. That was self-defense, Zayn. If I was truly a murderer, I would’ve killed you that day in the restaurant.”

His words resonated with truth so Zayn tried a different approach, “Do you want me to stay?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Louis was quiet for a few seconds before he said, “If I didn’t want you to stay I wouldn’t be making the offer.”

Zayn smiled, slowly, as he considered the lad sitting before him, “Alright, I’ll stay then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to update this on a weekly basis. Follow me on my tumblr (writingfromtheshadows.tumblr.com) for exact updates.


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